29th November: Reflections

Hi everybody,

This is the penultimate day of the month and I am in a reflective mood. During this month our aloneness was joyfully filled by the visit of our son for a few days. The continuity in the relationship got restored after a gap of more than two years. We enjoyed listening to the progress made by our grandsons in different spheres. We miss them terribly. So many times their innocent and sweet faces appear before my eyes and make me shower silent blessings. Distance does make heart grow fonder. No phone conversation can transmit the depth and warmth of your kinship with your near and dear ones!

November is also significant for the pleasantest weather.Morning walk is a treat. Basking in the mild sunshine upto 12 o' clock is invigorating and bucks you up for the day.Plenty of winter vegetables are available for savouring home cooked soups.Our mouths start watering at the sight of makki di roti and sarson da sag. One can see mounds of kinnows being sold on the road side. Lucky to drink fresh juice daily.Papaya ,apple and banana too are ubiquitous in this month. Bye bye Nov. and hail Dec for being always instrumental in ushering the new year!

Drawing Room Monologues

Drawing room social interactions are no longer what they used to be some years back. In these days of fast paced life it is quite infrequently that one gets invited along with a few others for a cup of tea by a common friend or goes their by oneself on a once monthly visit. The lamentable scenario is that there is no more a friendly sharing of views in a relaxed atmosphere for the enjoyment of all. Instead an irritating proclivity to hijack or monopolize the conversation by one or two individuals has become the rule rather than the exception.

The nouveau rich class seems to have become afflicted with this malady to a large extent. On a visit to them one will be bombarded by their description of their new acquisitions including flashy cars, high class bath room fittings and updated wardrobe et al. If one dares to interrupt their drunken flow of ‘duck speak’, one’s voice is drowned in the unstoppable cacophony.

The sudden quantum jump- in salary packages of those in service or those whose children have landed lucrative jobs in fast expanding Indian economy- has metamorphosed them into immodest charlatans. In no time such families have been catapulted from a middle class social ladder to an upwardly mobile centric position. Their egos have soared sky high and good manners required for the smooth flow of a dialogue have taken a flight. Especially the ladies in such families have turned so disagreeable since the family’s income has more than doubled that their common sense has correspondingly dipped abysmally low. Wherever they are they never get tired of indulging in boastful talk and narrating inane and insipid personal details ad nauseam to the genuine but concealed mirth of those present.

Then there is another specimen who the moment you open your mouth to say something would compulsively cut you short half way and start recounting endless stories about himself with the sole purpose of being in the centre stage. The egotistic exhibition would ironically end up making him look sillier and insufferable. Out of courtesy the victims choose to suffer in silence than putting him in his place. But evidently the thick skinned bore does not ever learn his lesson and would keep on mauling the unsuspecting victim mercilessly even without a breather.

Now the question arises why some people indulge in such social insanities when contrary to their expectations this aggressive and crude behaviour on their part lowers them in the eyes of those who paradoxically they wanted to impress. Don’t they know that people actually start avoiding them and would turn the other way to save their skin from such inveterate and conceited bores.

Perhaps it stems from their internal insecurities which they try to hide by resorting to such unbecoming show off. In the run up to one-upmanship they end up becoming a pain in the neck of their listeners whom secretly people despise. Surely they urgently need to do some introspection and learn to behave in a socially acceptable manner. Rather than acting a monologue be advised to participate in a healthy dialogue.

Mobile Mania

Talking on the mobile is the latest fashionable mania in India. It appears that mobile users have suddenly unearthed, hitherto, unknown relatives, friends and acquaintances and, by some magic have developed such camaraderie with them that chatting has become compulsive, bordering on addiction. It is hard to understand how, all of a sudden, people have attained the traits of being jolly, friendly and inseparable from each other at least through the airways. Like a smoker who touches his pocket every now and then to make sure that he carries a packet of cigarettes, the mobile users may forget anything but their set. It is a common sight to see a group of ladies having a walk with mobiles in their hand. For some, the use of the instrument has become as essential, as eating and sleeping. It is always a mystery to me, who, on the other end is so free and available, to be ready to indulge in the craze at all times. This tiny machine has made inroads into our personal lives in an unwholesome way. It enables young boys and girls to fix their rendezvous with each other very conveniently, circumventing the prying eyes and ears of their elders. It has become a sort of status symbol for the modern teens. The mobile companies leave no stone unturned to lure the youngsters through their innovative advertisements. “Don’t you think this newly created bonhomie will soon be translated into ‘too much familiarity breeds contempt’ syndrome?” A redeeming picture however -which is observable- is the constant smile which plays on people’s faces while engrossed in conversing.

The other day I witnessed an actual maddening act, on the part of a motorcyclist that would provide a novel idea even to the stuntmen. The man had tilted his head to an angle of 90 degrees and ensconced between his bent head and shoulder, was the object of this discussion. In this dangerously precarious position, he was busy chattering to glory, totally unmindful of the grave danger; his idiocy was posing to himself and others. None dared to intervene, because of past experience of lack of support by other road users, and the fear of what the roguish offender may do to you.

Another uncommon , but surely the one, which would be ubiquitous soon, is the picture perfect scenario of two persons on a scooter, and the one riding the pillion, holding the mobile near the ear of the driver who was talking incessantly, as if there is no tomorrow. People glued to it on roads, pathways, parks, rickshaws or driving a four wheeler is too common a sight to be mentioned.

This little object has taken away the element of surprise from our lives. When my children ask me for some ‘navi tajji’ (any news), I smile and point out that talking on phone so very frequently does not leave any new thing to be shared. We no longer sleep over any news. It has to be transmitted instantly and the mobile provides the perfect chance by its easy proximity. The peculiar emotion associated with waiting and being patient is replaced by instant satisfaction. Likewise the visual media has robbed us of our peace of mind, 24x7 keeping us excited by flooding our drawing rooms with minute to minute news of the world.

One of the major gainers of this invention to my mind is producers of family serials which are churned by Television channels day in and day out. For the writers of the daily episodes it has become so much easier with the pizzazz of machinations and conspiracies hatched and executed within the four walls, thanks to the perennial availability and various misuses of this very instrument.

It certainly has become a potent weapon for extortionists, kidnappers and rogues of all types, to scare their victims to compliance of their demands by issuing threats with the simulated blood curdling pitch of their voice from anywhere, anytime.

No doubt this medium of communication has helped the growth of small businesses and many other benefits accrue through it. But the wastage of time in frivolous talk is no prudence and should be religiously avoided. All said and done, life without this petite wonder now is unthinkable!

Rain in the Mountains

I had come to the hills-Kumarhatti to be precise- to beat the heat of the plains. However, I was dismayed by the unexpected, unending dry spell. The morning walk was a stifling routine, sans pleasure; dust powdering the face and hair with the passing of every vehicle. Fortunately, last week of June proved blissful and heavenly for us and the withering vegetation on mountain slopes and sun scorched earth. For two successive days the rain gods showered their benedictions profusely. It drizzled, it rained and it poured. It was a much needed respite for wilting plants, shrubs and trees; yellow lifeless grass and parched soil. The spell of rain kindled life into tiny blades of grass which turned green overnight as if by a conjuring trick. The majestic pine trees regained their glory with pine needles exhibiting well rounded confidence. The hopes and prayers of hill people fructified and they got back their cheer and charm. Their hand pumps resumed pumping water and womenfolk were saved the back breaking chore of bringing water from distances. The dried up natural springs, water channels and rivulets sprang to life and beckoned the passers by, “Oh! Splash our water on your hot bodies and cool yourself inside out.”
The magic wrought by nature has to be seen to be believed. The refreshing walk after the rains threw a veritable visual feast of green shoots of plants and foliage which appeared suddenly and winked naughtily at us as if saying, “Aren’t you convinced now that this is Dev Bhoomi where gods and goddesses reside amongst simple, pious and uncorrupted people”. The lines written on the backs of their vehicles like jai Santoshi Ma, Bhawani Ma, Gango Ma, jai Shiv Bhole Nath and scores of others amply prove their unshakeable faith. The bounty of timely rains further strengthens theirs deeply religious beliefs. They express their gratitude through special prayers and midnight bhajan congregations. Many houses are afloat with tiny temple like structures on their roofs with red or yellow flags fluttering overhead.
After this, much sought after downpour, the tenements of locals looked washed and bright. The mood all around was upbeat and nothing could upstage the healthy, soothing and tickling cool of the weather, which was going to herald rejuvenation of man and nature in equal measure.
While lounging on the sofa and looking through the window, I could sense the hill slopes fully animated after quenching their thirst and having a tête-à-tête with the rain drops falling musically on the earth. While eavesdropping I could make out what the rain drops were murmuring to the slopes, “Don’t you worry, we would always be there for you to redress your grievances.”
Rains are the lifeline of agriculturists in hills. Over the next few days I saw neatly prepared small beds on the slopes being planted with rows and rows of tomato and bell pepper (Shimla Mirch) saplings and also seeds being sown for maize and other crops.
Since July the rainy season is in full swing. The rhythmic fall of raindrops lulls me into a wonderful feeling of inactivity filled with sweet day dreaming off and on. The sight of milky white sheets of clouds over the clear blue sky, after the rain stops and when sun tries to peek through the drifting clouds showcases a visual canvas of nature’s deft strokes. This game of ‘Hide and Seek’ between the sun and clouds is played many a time during the day. In the backdrop of approaching dusk the shapely tops of pines; swinging from side to side in the breeze gives the illusion of befriending the skies. The charisma of such wonders of nature instills hope in the human heart and leads one out of the furrows of day- to- day existence.
In hills rains have a distinct personality. Normally they come and go at their own sweet will. No warning is proclaimed in the form of rumbling and gurgling of thunder and flashes of white light of lightning. Even in the course of a single day the number of visitations of this beautiful entity can be counted. They arrive like a guest who is always welcome and is extended another invite before he departs. Unlike in plains it rains here in straight lines as if it passes through a mammoth sieve up above. Also it produces a soft and friendly musical beat minus slants and sweeps.
Thanks to the elixir of abundant rainfall, different varieties of flowers, bordering the flats have started blooming unannounced in a kaleidoscope of rioting colours in our complex. The journey from bud to blossom was sudden and short like a young girl’s developing curves and bright skin tone quite abruptly on attaining puberty.
Now and then, within minutes the whole area gets engulfed in mist, rising from the flanks of the mountains and visibility is considerably reduced. And at other times the outside is clouded with haze selectively and only parts of the scene are discernible. And then in no time mist is blown away showing everything so clearly once again. And one exclaims, “What a sight!! Is it Alice’s Wonderland? ” “How could Ruskin Bond not get inspired by such picture perfect natural settings for penning his inimitable short stories?”
In the midst of such splendour and indescribable beauty my head bows in gratitude for the munificence which nature bestows on us and my mind echoes John Keats’ line, “A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.”

Bond Wagon Pub.Tribune 25March2010

Bond Wagon
We are K. S.Sidhu and Mrs. M.P.Sidhu
Relationship: Husband and Wife
Time Together: 40 years
Same to Same: We were both in the same profession. He was teaching Chemistry at the University level and I was teaching English language and literature at the College level. We are retired now and we both are sticklers for perfection and believe in doing good deeds. Whatever we take on ourselves we put our heart and soul to accomplish it. We are wholly dependable and keep our promises. Though because of this trait we have been taken advantage of, but we carry on nevertheless.
We both love poetry and occasionally indulge in reading sessions together. Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” is his favorite poem and mine is A.H. Clough’s “Say not the struggle not availeth.” In Punjabi we fully savour Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s poetry - his magical and deft threading of words to express human pain, sadness, despondency and dejection intensely, lyrically and rhythmically.
Yet Different: Above apart we have opposite traits. Though he has mellowed down considerably with the passage of time, yet even now instinctively the man in him reacts in the negative to my opinions and assertions. It is another matter that he comes round to my view after some convincing. He is very intelligent and with his mathematical proficiency can manipulate numbers in his head whereas I fumble even computing vegetable bills. He is pragmatic and is ever ready to take up new challenges and is capable of bringing them to fruition. I largely evaluate the pros and cons of an action before embarking on it. He loves watching hockey and cricket on T.V. I almost skip the sports page of a newspaper.
Unforgettable Moments: I have many but I will share a few with you. On the day of our marriage-a long time back of course- immediately before the garlanding ceremony he presented me a bouquet of beautiful flowers. It was a pleasurable surprise and I was deeply touched as he had ordered it a few days back through somebody from a Chandigarh florist.
Other unforgettable moments are connected with our trip to Jammu and Kashmir way back in the first summer break after our marriage. We explored the heavenly valley driving in our Volkswagen, staying in rest houses and meandering through the exquisite gardens spread over Kashmir. For the first time we experienced staying in a house boat that too in the Dal lake of Srinagar.
The birth of our two children were the happiest moments of my life and most memorable. (M.P.Sidhu)
When I met her for the first time there and then I decided that I am to marry this girl. The other moment is at the time of the Doli ceremony when my daughter sat in the car with her husband to go to her in- law’s house I became so emotional that I cried profusely. (K.S.Sidhu)
Special Something: He is very, very special. He is my man ‘Friday’ and I am his most reliable assistant. When he fixes my leaking taps I stay at a calling distance to hand him over the wrench while he adjusts the washer at the right place. I hold the stool when he replaces my fused bulbs. When he hangs a picture on the wall I am at his side to pass the drill to bore a hole and also point out the marked spots-I can see them better from a distance- and then the hammer and the nail in the correct position to be struck in the hole. Consequently the job is impeccably discharged (unlike uncle Podger’s crooked effort).He is a sort of connoisseur in food tasting also and most of the time tells me accurately what is required.( M.P.Sidhu)
I am indebted to her the way she managed her professional and private life so very earnestly. (K.S. Sidhu)
Funny Takes: When she naively explains something very simple minutely I am amused but pretend that I am listening. (K.S.Sidhu)
Though he had been in and out of the kitchen many times yet would ask in a childlike manner what is for dinner, which makes me laugh! (M.P.Sidhu)
Wishful Thinking: “If wishes were horses beggars would ride” yet I can certainly state that I had had a wonderful life and absolutely no regrets. At the moment I only wish for his love, care and concern, nothing more and nothing less. (M.P.Sidhu)
I want her as she is! My only wish is she should work less hard and take care of herself more. (K.S. Sidhu)

2nd anniversary celebrations of Eternal University, Baru Sahib, Himchal Pradesh, India.29th April 2010. There was a grand function organised which included cultural events such as classical dance, musical medley,solo music performances, a farcical comedy'The man who marries a dumb wife' a skit in Hindi on the scourge of superstition and a Himachali dance ',Natti'. I was the master of ceremonies and incharge of the preparation and rehearsals of all stage performances. But with the grace of God and co-operation of team members the programme was executed meticulously to my immense relief.

Spring’s Bounties

Spring the king of seasons is at its peak at the moment. Vegetation which was smarting under the bane of intense cold is back to its full glory. It is amazing to see the change wrought by nature around the house and mesmerizing to feel the beauty unleashed by assorted plants, shrubs and trees.

Spring ushers the rebirth of nature and brings hope to mankind of better days to come. A poet has echoed this sentiment so aptly, “No matter how long the winter spring is sure to follow.”

Around my front lawn lilies are in a rage of full bloom. While enjoying the sight in the fresh morning breeze and closely watching them, I noticed an unbelievable nature’s marvel. There were many reed like stems sprung up almost unobtrusively-in a short span of time- with a stylish bud on top of each stem which has loosened itself into full blossom in three days, first a pair then the third and lastly the fourth exactly in that order.

The few rose bushes, which I have, display a riot of colour not in the yard alone but in my drawing room also. I am crazy about the sight and smell of roses. I carefully remove some partly blossomed ones, cut their stems at an angle and let them float in a wide brimmed glass bowl filled with water. It provides soothing aroma and a visual delight for days together.

Chrysanthemum plants are already showing signs of rejuvenation after the onslaught of winter. ‘Curry Patta ’bush has come up with glistening leaves and tiny white flowers on the ends of the branches which are attracting buzzing bees and flitting butterflies. In due course of time these flowers will mature into seeds and fall along side the bush resurfacing in almost a crop of baby saplings in the rainy season.
I am an aficionado of growing household herbs and have two potted Aloe Vera which I grow for medicinal purposes. It has multiplied and stalks look healthy and fleshy. In a few days time, I am going to cut the stalks, scoop the flesh from inside and preserve it in the fridge. Where a few months ago stood my Tulsi plant burnt with cold has now a mushrooming of tiny Tulsi saplings. I am waiting for them to grow a bit more before I start using the fresh leaves in my morning cuppa of tea. Mint bed is filling itself again with dark green fresh looking leaves ready for pudina cutney season.

Two huge Neem trees grow along the outer side of my house (mine is a corner house).They too are having new shoots now but after inundating the area with shed leaves to the chagrin of my gardener. The bougainvillea shrubs nearby are in full splendour of pretty looking yellow, pink, red and purple flowers. The squirrels are having a field day scurrying up and down the neem. The cuckoo is already in a joyous mood and coo coos perched on the mango tree budding profusely.

The cycle of renewal is so spontaneous and automatic in nature that we hardly notice its movement. Though we have evolved in the midst of nature but in the race of life have severed our umbilical relationship with it. This sentiment is succinctly expressed by W.H .Davies in his poem ‘Leisure’, where he says “what is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.” By abusing the flora and fauna man is inviting its own annihilation. It is heartening that so many organizations are coming forward to save the planet earth through the medium of their various campaigns. I hope they succeed!